She lay quietly, enjoying that delicious state which hovers between wakefulness and sleep, alternately drifting in and out of the latter. During the wakeful swings of the cycle, she was conscious only of occasional whispers of air as the central air conditioning cycled on and off, stirring the dust motes revealed hanging in the air by the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the blinds of her bedroom windows. She was, as the romance novelists are fond of saying, "basking in the afterglow." Their lovemaking had been more intense, yet at the same time more tender than usual, perhaps because they had both known it would be the last time.

She had been very firm about that, telling her lover that she could not continue the relationship, given her changed status. She had expected an argument, or a bitter fight, and had in fact marshaled a litany of reasons as to why it was for the best. She had been taken somewhat aback by the quiet acceptance. The only response she had gotten to what was essentially an ultimatum on her part was a quiet "I see."

It's ironic, she thought, as she dozed off again, she was prepared for a terrible scene - one which failed to transpire. In a way she was glad it was over, for her lover had lately become even more domineering and possessive than usual, and she was frankly tired of the frequent bouts of jealousy which precipitated ever more acrimonious arguments. There was another irony at work, as well, in that today was Mother's Day, and it was her incipient motherhood that she had given as the reason for suspending the relationship.

She was not quite sure why she awakened again, her latest period of sleep having been deeper than the prior dozing, but as she swam up through the fuzzy layers of unconsciousness, she became gradually aware of a presence in the room. Coming to with a start, she recognized the figure, which was clad in black leather.

"What are you doing here? I thought we agreed that it was over," she said.

The figure remained silent and moved to the side of the bed. It was then that she saw the handcuffs dangling from one of the figure's hands.

"I see we're going to be kinky this time," she mused aloud as she automatically stretched her arms and legs toward the corners of the four-poster bed, the better to allow herself to be secured to them. It was a game they had played many times before, and she allowed herself to smile in anticipation of what was surely to come, even though she knew that she should be frowning at her wishes not having been adhered to.

She was still smiling when the figure produced a duffle bag and opened it, but the smile changed to a look of bewilderment when she saw something produced that was definitely not one of their usual 'toys.' She began to scream when she realized what was about to happen to her and continued screaming for a time during the process. When the screams had turned to a gurgle and finally stopped, the black-clad figure picked up the duffel bag, restored a portion of its contents, and left, closing the bedroom door as quietly as it had been opened. For a time, the only motion in the room was that of the dust motes which had been disturbed by the closing of the door, and the only sound the occasional sigh of the air conditioning. After a while the cooling of the evening satisfied a thermostat somewhere in the house, the air conditioning ceased cycling, and finally even the dust-motes were still.

They remained so until the next morning, when there was a knock on the door. "Senora, I have brought your breakfast."

Receiving no answer, the maid knocked again. "Senora, are you awake? It's almost ten o'clock."

There was no response from the silent room. Eventually the door was cautiously opened, and the maid backed into the room holding a tray, pushing the door ahead of her with her ample backside. When she was all the way in the room, she turned around. When she saw what lay on the bed, she dropped the tray with a clatter, and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, the room was filled with screams of terror.